Sharing with a Girl
by Eryndil
Summary: When River moves into the TARDIS, the Doctor has to adjust to sharing with a girl. Short and fluffy one-shot with a hint of naughtiness. Eleven/River.


Title: Sharing with a Girl

Characters/Pairings: Eleven/River

Warnings: Minor spoilers for TPO and DOTM

Rating: T for mild references to mature topics

Summary: When River moves into the TARDIS, the Doctor has to adjust to sharing with a girl

Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all related characters, settings and trademarks are the property of the BBC. I do not claim any ownership over them. This story is my own invention and is intended for entertainment purposes only. I am not making any profit from its publication here or elsewhere.

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><p><em>AN: I never thought I'd write a DW story as it's hard to do justice to such a fantastic show! Then I went on holiday and this fic just popped into my head (with no internet or DVDs I was getting DW withdrawal symptoms!) so here it is. This is mainly a bit of fluff with a hint of naughtiness – I hope you find it fun._

The Doctor was feeling nervous. It was the first time (from his point of view at least) that he and River had travelled together on the TARDIS and he wasn't sure what he had let himself in for. Of course, it wasn't unusual for him to be accompanied by a female companion, but this was a bit different. Actually, this was a lot different.

For one thing, the TARDIS had decided that his usual bedroom was no longer adequate and had created a new, much larger room, with – of all things – a massive four poster bed. As he looked at it, he had a sinking feeling. The monstrous piece of furniture was embarrassingly ostentatious and he could only hope that River wouldn't take a liking to it. The moment she stepped through the door, he knew that he was out of luck.

"Ooh, a four poster!" she exclaimed with a glint in her eyes. "What fun!"

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer something a bit less extravagant?" he asked, wringing his hands nervously. "Maybe some bunk beds?"

"Don't be silly," she replied dismissively. "You'd be amazed at how versatile a four poster can be. I know for a fact that you'll develop quite a fondness for them."

She threw him a salacious look and he was tempted to ask her for more details. But, since that would only lead to her uttering the dreaded word "spoilers" in that tone that he found both frustrating and intriguing, he decided not to bother. Instead he just frowned at her in what he hoped was a stern and disapproving manner.

Her only response was to lean back against the bed seductively and give him her most enticing smile.

"Why don't you come here and I'll show you?"

She beckoned to him and her eyes sparkled with promise. The Doctor hesitated for a moment before deciding that it would be rude to turn down such a generous invitation. Soon afterwards he had to admit that four poster beds weren't so bad after all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It was later that day when he discovered that the new room was in fact an en-suite. Walking through the nondescript door into the bathroom, he came to an abrupt halt, staring around himself, open mouthed. His face, reflected back to him in the mirrored walls, wore an oddly familiar expression.

_Oh yes_, he observed with sudden recognition, that was how people looked when they first stepped into the TARDIS – that "it's bigger on the inside" moment. Right now, the Doctor had a pretty good idea of how they felt.

The bathroom was huge and, in addition to the mirrored walls, it featured marble floors, a sculpted ceiling that appeared to be made of stucco and two elaborate crystal chandeliers. In the centre of the room was the most enormous bath that he had ever seen. It was partially sunken into the floor, with marble sides and what looked like solid gold fittings.

It reminded him of something out of ancient Egypt. In fact, he was sure that he had seen a very similar bath in Cleopatra's palace back in 49 BC. Obviously the TARDIS knew of River's fondness for Egyptian fashions and had designed this room accordingly.

He had a sudden image of the intrepid Dr Song playing Cleopatra to a camp full of Roman soldiers back at the start of the Pandorica incident. That was the first time that he had seen her in that outfit, but it certainly wasn't the last. With a reminiscent smile on his face, the Doctor decided that he rather liked Egyptian fashions too.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The following day, he was comfortably ensconced in the swing seat below the main console, humming to himself and tinkering with the isometric thermocouplings, when he discovered that his sonic screwdriver was no longer in his jacket pocket. He knew that he hadn't left it lying around and he had a fair idea of who might have taken it.

With a loud "harrumph," he extracted his arms from the crazy tangle of wiring above his head and went to find River. He had checked the library, gym, science lab and shooting range (another of her additions) before he finally heard the sound of running water coming from the direction of the bedroom.

Marching along with a purposeful stride and an expression of righteous indignation, he entered the bathroom to be confronted by his beloved, entirely naked, sitting on a low leather stool. Beside her, the enormous bath was slowly filling and the mass of bubbles that was peeping over the marble sides indicated that she was planning on a long luxurious soak.

However, the Doctor barely noticed any of this as his attention had been caught by his sonic, which she was holding in her left hand and running over her leg as if checking for injuries.

"What exactly are you doing with my screwdriver?" he demanded, trying very hard to sound reproachful and frowning a little at the obvious curiosity in his voice.

"What do you think I'm doing, sweetie?"

She looked at him with a serene smile that told him she definitely wasn't injured. He had no idea how to answer her but fortunately she didn't seem to expect a reply.

"I'm using the depilatory function, of course."

"The what? It doesn't have a depilatory function!"

"Of course it does, honey. You just haven't found it yet. You should try it though, it's much better than those old-fashioned razors you use. Or you could always stop shaving altogether. I bet you'd look good with a beard."

"It'd be too itchy," he muttered, remembering that business with the Silence, when Canton had held him prisoner for three months. Come to think of it, River had seemed to find his beard rather attractive. Maybe he should give it a go...

_No, no, no,_ he chided himself. This was not the time for contemplating facial grooming. He was far too easily distracted - especially when River was around – and she was very aware of that fact. He shook his head to get his mind back on the matter in hand: namely, his sonic.

"Well, you're going to have to stop doing... whatever it is you are doing," he said, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of her legs. "I am in the middle of a very important maintenance... thing and I need my screwdriver right now."

"If this 'very important maintenance thing' is you tinkering with the isometric thermocouplings, you know as well as I do that there's nothing wrong with them. You're just going to mess up the settings again."

There wasn't much he could say to deny that, seeing as she was right. In the absence of any logical response, he was reduced to asserting his rights in a manner popular with schoolchildren galaxy-wide.

"River, it's _my_ sonic and I want it back."

"But then how would I keep my legs so silky smooth?" she replied, voluptuously stroking one shapely calf muscle.

Once again, the Doctor found himself struggling for a response and had to resort to holding his hand out, palm upwards, as if he expected her to simply give him the sonic. She, of course, ignored his futile gesture and smiled at him flirtatiously as her fingers continued their journey upwards to rest against her thigh.

In spite of his best efforts, the Doctor's gaze was drawn inexorably to that part of her anatomy. River leaned forward and took hold of the hand that was still stretched out towards her, pulling him closer.

"Here, why don't you see for yourself?" she murmured as she placed his hand against the soft skin of her inner thigh.

For half a second, he considered putting up a token resistance, but there really was no point. After all, they both knew that she would get what she wanted. And, whatever he might say, they both knew that he wanted the exact same thing. With a long sigh that was half resignation, half contentment, he took a step forward.

Two hours later, in their embarrassingly ostentatious but surprisingly versatile four poster bed, he decided that sharing a room with a girl was actually quite cool.


End file.
